


Well, Shit

by turnonmyheels



Category: Friday Night Lights
Genre: F/M, First Time, fake rake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-29
Updated: 2010-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-10 07:54:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/97396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turnonmyheels/pseuds/turnonmyheels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set pre-series, spoilers through <i>Best Laid Plans</i><br/><b>Challenge</b>:  Fake rake - a man falsely rumored to be promiscuous, who isn't; romance novel term. *Bonus* first-time sex<br/><b>Summary</b>:  He just couldn't figure why people would lie like that; what was the point?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Well, Shit

"As long as I've known Tim Riggins there's only two phrases that can put a smile on his face. Number one: we goin' to state. Number two: the results are in, you are not the father," Smash said, and the laughter, mostly steady throughout the roast, grew twice as loud.

Tim sneaked a glimpse at Tyra out of the corner of his eye and was relieved to see her giggling. She had her hand over her mouth, but she was _definitely_ laughing. She caught him looking at her and bumped her shoulder into his.

He let out a sigh of relief; back in August that joke would have led to a fight, which probably would have ended with her slapping him and storming off. Tim had butterflies in his stomach that didn't get any better when his comment, "How about Saracen sleeping with the Coach's daughter?" killed the laughter. He slunk back to his table embarrassed and feeling dumb as hell. Tyra glared at him and slapped him on the arm after he sat down, but it was a friendly slap instead of an 'I hate you slap.' He was well versed in the difference.

Tim glanced around the room as the laughter started building again. Street over there in his wheelchair; Lyla by herself on the other side of the room; and here he was, mostly sober, sitting with Tyra, who wasn't his girl anymore but somehow, miraculously, was his friend. He had no idea how they'd all ended up here, not after the way the year had started. Billy leaned over and said something to Tyra and she threw her head back and laughed out loud.

It didn't matter how they got here. Not really. He was just glad they had.

**First Week of School**

Wednesday mornings sucked. Hell, mornings sucked period. He had morning practice every day at 6:00 am and when the alarm went off at 5:30, Tim was still drunk from the night before. Not that that was different from any _other_ day of the week. He finally dragged his ass out of bed at 6:15 and made it to the field by 6:45. Coach chewed him out for 10 minutes before making him run suicides while the rest of the team practiced. Then he had to run blocking drills while everyone else was in the showers. Which meant, basically, that the Dillon Panthers' Varsity Football Team was on time for school except for Tim Riggins.

If he was 45 minutes late to practice, Coach made sure he was 45 minutes late to class, which led to detention every three tardies, which led to being late for afternoon practice, rinse, lather, repeat (something Tim never had the time to do before school because of football practice). Tim jogged up the steps from the field house to the school just in time for the class change between first and second period.

His teammates ignored him, pissed at him as usual; he looked but didn't see Tyra anywhere. He grabbed his notebook out of his locker and slammed it shut just as a handful of rally girls walked past him and giggled. Loudly.

Shit.

He took a moment to look around and noticed that it wasn't just rally girls. Everyone seemed to be whispering and pointing at him.

"You're a piece of work, man. Good thing you got the Smash around to take care of business while you're off drinking and screwing everything that moves," Smash said in his usual too-loud voice, bumping into into his shoulder as he walked past.

Tim ignored him; if he didn't there'd be a fight and then he'd get suspended and ... being a star on the team was good for some things, but Tim'd pretty much used up all his graces two years ago. The late bell rang and Tim cussed under his breath before taking off for class.

U.S. history wasn't any better the second time around. He slid into his usual chair across the aisle from Tyra's seat, but she wasn't there. She'd moved across the room and up a few rows.

Shit.

Tim knew what all these clues added up to. Somebody who'd been at the party Saturday night must have said he'd screwed somebody or hooked up with somebody and now it was all over school; Tyra was pissed and wouldn't talk to him for a month. He'd thought she'd get used to it--rumors were just rumors--but Tyra never believed him. Not without at least an hour's worth of begging and doing some god-awful chore she didn't want to do, like mowing her mama's yard for a month or two.

He tapped his pencil against his textbook and wondered if it would ever end. Tyra had to know it was bullshit. She _had_ to. She'd been his first way back when he was fifteen and she was fourteen. Hell, she'd been his _only_.

Mrs. Shelton's voice was low and easy to tune out, which was probably why he was taking the damn class again. He tried to remember what exactly had happened at the party, but everything after Street left was hazy. Mrs. Shelton was trying to get the class talking about relations between the Pilgrims and the Indians; it wasn't interesting the first time around--a bunch of people were hungry and the Indians fed them, who cared? Tim stared at Tyra's back and replayed the party.

> The Last Blast of the Summer Bash was one of the best parties of the year. They – the football team, rally girls, cheerleaders, and anybody who was anybody -- spent the afternoon at the lake waterskiing, wake boarding, and playing volleyball on the beach. Billy always brought a few kegs and if you had five bucks and your own cup you could drink until they ran dry. Tim had helped Billy tap the kegs around eleven that morning and had been hovering on the line between buzzed and out-and-out drunk from then on.
> 
> Tyra'd been there early in the day but had to leave that afternoon for the night shift at Applebee's. She'd been pissed as hell about that and acted like a bitch almost the whole day because of it, but it wasn't like there was anything Tim could do about it. Lyla showed up around the time Tyra left and that made it worse. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't figure why those two hated each other so much. It didn't matter anyhow, it's not like he could do anything to fix it.
> 
> "Hey, y'all! Watch this!"
> 
> The universal call of a redneck about to kill his self.
> 
> Tim turned toward the voice to see Reyes standing at the end of the dock on a wake board, holding onto the tow rope. "Hit it, Red!"
> 
> "Don't you do it, Red, you'll kill him!" Street shouted as he sprinted the length of the dock. He got there in time to knock the rope out of Reyes' hand before Red hit the throttle on the boat. Street knocked Reyes hard on the back of the head and yelled at him. Tim relaxed back into the lawn chair he had set up near the bonfire and drained his cup of beer.
> 
> One of the rally girls (Mandy? Sandy?) had been sitting on the ground beside him talking for what felt like hours. She was saying something about a sunburn and asked him to rub some aloe on her. "How about you get me a beer instead?" Tim handed her his empty cup, grateful when she shut up and walked away.
> 
> "How you holding up, Timmy?" Jason asked, sitting down in the lawn chair beside him.
> 
> "Best I've been all day, Six." Lyla, who was never far away from Jason, sat down between them where the rally girl had been. (Candy? Brandy?) Tim didn't know what her name was, but smiled and said thanks when she brought him his refill. "Better now." He raised his cup in salute. "Texas forever, man." He killed the beer and tossed the cup into the fire.

He didn't have any idea what happened after that. But since he'd woken up in the same lawn chair, with all his clothes on, he was pretty sure there was no way he'd done Sandy or Brandy (or Candy or Mandy) or whatever it was everyone was whispering about.

The bell rang. Tim gathered his books and tried to get to Tyra before she made it to the door and disappeared in all the people, but he wasn't fast enough. He needed to find Street. He'd get Street to talk to her like he always did. Calm her down, tell her he hadn't done whatever it was everyone was talking about. Then things could go back to normal.

Of course, he wouldn't see Street until practice; they hadn't had a class together since freshman year, and this year they didn't even have the same lunch period, something he didn't mind all that much. Not having Jason (and Lyla) around at lunch meant that if Tyra was mad at him – and when wasn't she? – that Tim would be left alone and could sneak some vodka in his drink. Another cluster of girls walked past him whispering, laughing, talking about him right in front of him. Today was definitely a vodka-at-lunch kind of day; good thing he always had some just in case.

Tim carried his tray to his table; he was the only Varsity player at first lunch and no one else would sit with him. They were all afraid of him, a remnant from his bullying days and his temper when he was drunk, so he had the far corner table to himself. It made pulling the airplane bottle out of his boot and dumping the contents into his plastic cup of purple Kool-Aid the easiest drink at school he'd ever had, and he'd had his fair share.

Tim downed half the cup in one swallow and started on his lunch: two pieces of pizza, fries, a cheeseburger, chicken nuggets, slaw, and two chocolate milks. He never had understood why people made such a fuss about school food, it was a damn sight better than anything Billy made. Didn't hold a candle to Mrs. Street's Tuesday night dinners, of course, but then nothing really could.

Tim may have had a Ph.D. in stupid, as Billy liked to say often and loudly, but he knew drinking--at lunch or until he passed out and woke up still drunk--had more to do with why Tyra was mad at him than some stupid rally girl running off at the mouth about hooking up with him.

If he'd been sober enough to not pass out, he could have let her down gently, and maybe gotten a ride home with Street instead of waking up by the burned-out bonfire, covered in dew and mosquito bites. Really, it all came back to drinking. Everything no good and messed up in his life had something to do with having a drink, wanting a drink, or being hung over. Tim shook his head to get rid of his thoughts as he stood up from the table; he threw away his garbage and stacked his tray then went to sit outside. Tyra was eating an apple under the big oak tree in front of the school. Alone. Even from where he was standing he could see her glaring daggers at the rally girls sitting on the bench nearby.

"His hands are so big." Giggle. "He's really good with them too. And not just with a football." Giggle.

"I know. And that thing he does, where he hides behind his hair and kind of … peers through it to talk to you? So sexy." Giggle, giggle.

"This one time? During the summer? The Rigginses threw a pool party?" Loud guffawing and heads nodding all around. "I snuck out and stayed the ENTIRE night. Tim's bed's kind of lumpy and his sheets smelled a little, but let me tell you girl, you have no idea what it is to wake up until you've woken up in Tim Riggins' bed." Giggle, giggle.

Tim shook his head. He'd woken up the morning after that party on a float in the pool with Billy hollering at him about rolling off and drowning. He just couldn't figure why people would lie like that; what was the point?

"Have you seen how big his dick is?" One of the girls held her hands so far apart.

"I have, and it's more like." The other girl moved the hands closer together. "But he's really thick."

Damn. Tyra was gonna kill those stupid bitches if they didn't stop running their mouths. He sauntered over and plopped down on the ground beside her. He tugged a piece of hair that had fallen out of her messy pony tail and leaned in for a kiss. He got smacked across the face instead.

"It's bad enough I have to listen to that," Tyra hissed pointing to the girls. "Do you have any idea what they're saying? Is that why you're drinking at lunch? Jesus, Tim. I can't deal with your shit." Tyra stood and wiped off her butt. "Summer is one thing and Saturday night's something else. But you're drunk all the time, every day. You need to stop or you're gonna turn into your daddy."

"Tyra, baby." He reached out to grab her hand and she threw her apple at him instead.

"I'm sick of this, Tim." She backed up a few steps. "If you wanna get drunk and screw every girl in school, go ahead." Tyra was never prettier than when she was mad and he didn't think he'd ever seen her madder than she was right now. "She's going to have a test to prove you're the daddy."

Tyra stormed off, over to where the girls were sitting. She grabbed the loudest one by the shirt and hauled her up to her feet, shaking her a little in the process. Tim couldn't hear what they were saying, but he knew it wasn't good.

Tyra'd only eaten about half the apple. Tim shrugged as he watched Tyra storm off, bit into it, and tried to suck the juice before it ran down his chin. He was using his sleeve to wipe it off when what she'd said hit him.

"Daddy? Oh, shit."

~*~

The day only got worse. It wasn't just the rally girls pointing and staring, the whole school was in on it. Funny (or not), how he didn't have a clue who was supposed to be having his baby, but the whole damn school did and no one was telling him. Tyra'd pulled out of the parking lot after school so fast he could still smell the rubber burning all the way down to the field. The cheerleaders were practicing on the track and Tim jogged over, hoping Lyla would tell him what was going on.

He walked up behind her and waited until she'd finished telling the girls to start running their laps. "Lyla?"

"Tim," she said not turning around.

He stepped closer to her and put a hand on her shoulder that she shrugged off. "Look, I know there's a rumor going around school. It's got to be bad 'cause Tyra's too mad to even yell at me. Think you could tell me what's going on?"

She whirled around. "What's going on? What's going on?" Her voice rising a little more each time. "What's going on is that Mandy Calhoun is going around school telling everybody she's pregnant and you're the daddy!"

Tim opened and closed his mouth a few times trying to figure out what to say, but Lyla talked right over him.

"It's bad enough you had her fetching and carrying your beer all day Saturday, and that you cheated on Tyra, but she says she caught you having sex with her twin Candy after ignoring her all day." Lyla poked him in the chest with one perfectly manicured fingernail. "Get away from me, you make me sick!" Lyla spun on her heel and ran off after the rest of the squad, catching up quickly.

"Well, shit." There wasn't anything else Tim could do but go to practice. Smash and a couple of other guys were already dressed and on the field so Tim knew he had to haul ass or get chewed out again. Three times in one day was enough, he didn't need another.

Practice was brutal. It was always tough, but it felt like Coach was picking on him worse than usual. He wasn't surprised when Coach pulled him aside on his way out of the locker room. "Son, I know you don't have a lot of supervision at home. If you ever need to talk to somebody about anything ... " Coach trailed off for a second and started again. "Look, you can't just go around sleeping with every girl that catches your eye. Now, I know that you're 17 and you're gonna do what you're gonna do, but you're hurting yourself and that hurts the team."

Coach handed him a box of Trojans. "Pull yourself together, take responsibility for your actions, and always wear a rubber, son. There's worse things out there than being a father too young." Coach clapped him on the shoulder and headed back inside the locker room.

"Well, shit." Tim stared at the box of condoms in his hands and headed for his truck, home, and a beer.

~*~

Billy had his feet up on the coffee table and a cooler of beer on the floor in front of him. "Sit your ass down, Timmy."

Tim dropped his gear by the door and sat down. He grabbed a can of beer out of the cooler, popped the tab, and chugged it down. He belched loudly, crumpled the can, and tossed it in the trash can beside the TV. He grabbed another, popped the top, and took another swallow. "I needed that man, it's been a shitty day."

"I hear it's about to be filled with shitty diapers." Billy slapped Tim on the back of the head. "Didn't I tell you never to fuck a girl without a rubber?"

"Jesus, Billy." Tim blew his hair out of his face and slouched back against the couch. "I didn't screw that girl. I've never had sex with any girl but Tyra."

"Don't bullshit the bullshitter, Timmy." Billy stood up, grabbed his keys off the coffee table, and headed for the door. "I'm goin' out. See if you can't keep it in your pants for the night."

"Shit."

Tim slouched back into the couch and drained his second beer, grabbed a third, and blew the hair out of his face again. He tried to figure out how everything had gotten so out of control, but this had been going on for as long as he could remember. Back in sixth grade when he'd first screwed up the nerve to hold Tyra's hand, the very next day some girl – he couldn't remember who now – said he'd kissed her at the skating rink after Tyra'd had to leave.

Tyra had broken up with him when she'd heard the rumor. He'd sworn up and down for days that it wasn't true. Street had finally backed him up and Tyra'd gotten back with him. A couple weeks later it happened again, except it was somebody else and it supposedly happened at Lyla's birthday party. By the end of his sixth grade year he and Tyra'd been broken up as much as they'd been together and things hadn't gotten any better since.

Fact was, now it was worse. It seemed like, for every base he crossed with Tyra, some other girl was saying he'd done it with her within a week or two. Even the very first time, which had been a disaster no matter how he looked at it.

> Tyra was always pushing him. It seemed like nothing was ever enough. When Tim had been content to get his hand up her shirt, she'd wanted it in her pants instead, which is how he found himself in his bedroom with the door locked after school, naked on his bed, with an equally naked Tyra on top of him.
> 
> "Come on, Tim, you know you want to." Tyra squeezed his dick and leaned forward, letting all that long blonde hair tickle his chest. "If you didn't, you wouldn't be this hard."
> 
> "Tyra." He cupped her face with his hands and pulled her in for a kiss. "I don't know." He didn't. He couldn't explain why either.
> 
> "It'll feel good, you know it will." Tyra started jacking him gently; she'd learned years ago he didn't like it rough. "You've loved everything we've done, haven't you?"
> 
> Tim bit his bottom lip and nodded.
> 
> "It's not a big deal, Tim, really," Tyra said between the kisses she was trailing down his throat; he squirmed a little 'cause her hair tickled him. "People do it all the time."
> 
> He couldn't tell her no. He never could. Not after the first time they got back together and she wanted to put her tongue in his mouth, not after Street's birthday party in eighth grade when she wanted him to feel her up, and not three weeks after that when she wanted his fingers inside her.
> 
> "I just don't want you to regret it, baby," he said, wrapping one hand around her wrist and pulling her up to lay on top him. They'd only started getting completely naked a couple weeks ago, when Billy's shift changed from first to second and they knew they wouldn't get caught. "God, Tyra. It's just …" Tim skimmed his fingertips along her side and thrilled at the goosebumps that followed the path. "Feeling you against me like this, it's enough, ya know?"
> 
> Tyra leaned up and kissed him. "It's amazing. But I want more. I won't regret it, Tim, I promise." She leaned over the side of the bed and grabbed a strip of condoms out of her purse, dropping them on the bed in easy reach.
> 
> She just looked so damn pretty and felt so good on top of him that he couldn't say no. Besides, if being inside her felt anywhere near as good as being in her mouth, well – this was probably going to be one of his favorite things.
> 
> "If you're sure." Tyra nodded and Tim rolled her over and kissed her until she squirmed against him.
> 
> "Quit stalling," she said and ran her hands through his hair and pulled on it a little before pushing his head down.
> 
> Tim relaxed a little; he was good at this part. He hadn't always been, but they'd had _lots_ of practice. He ran his tongue over her folds and across her clit before dipping inside. She wasn't nearly as wet as he thought she'd be. Probably nervous like him. He pushed in and out with his tongue, before circling around and flicking across her clit. Tim slid one finger inside and then another, crooking his fingers up and rubbing to make her gasp, before licking her again. Tyra tugged on his hair and he slid up her body and kissed her.
> 
> She liked to taste herself on his tongue, and it always made his balls throb when she whimpered like that. "Come on, Tim, do it," Tyra said and leaned up on her elbows watching him fumble with the condoms.
> 
> He pulled one off and tried ripping it open like a pack of ketchup, but it didn't rip so he stuck a corner of it in his mouth and tore into it with his teeth. His hands shook a little as he pulled it out of the wrapper. He started to roll it on but realized he'd torn it. "Damn it." He tossed in on the floor and grabbed another from the strand.
> 
> "Try not to tear it this time." Tyra sat up and started running both hands up and down his dick.
> 
> Tim sucked in a breath and knocked her hands away. "Stop it, or I'll come." He fumbled with the packet some more, god why it was so hard to open?
> 
> "Give me that." Tyra giggled a little, rolled her eyes and snatched it out of his hands. She opened it without any problems and handed him the condom.
> 
> Before today, he'd never even held one in his hand before. It was slick, a little cool; when he peeked through his hair to look at Tyra she was sitting up with her legs spread wide, a flush creeping from her chest to her face. Tim took a deep breath; with hands shaking, he nearly had the condom on the tip of his dick when he came all over it. "Damn it! Sorry, baby, sorry." He tossed the ruined condom on the floor and tried to kiss Tyra but she was too busy laughing at him.
> 
> He pushed her down and ate her out until she stopped laughing. Then he fingered her and licked her clit until she screamed, he didn't stop until she was on the verge of coming again. Then he sat back on his heels and opened the wrapper and slipped the condom on all by himself while Tyra pleaded. "Tim, please, please. I want you. Want you so bad. Want to feel you inside me, baby, please."
> 
> He'd finally, _finally_ gotten the condom on. He held himself over her and kissed her while he tried to get it in. It kept slipping around and the moment was rapidly fading. He finally had to put all his weight on Tyra and use both hands, but he was in. And it was like ... it was like the lake on a hot summer afternoon, like a cold beer after football practice, and like catching the pass for a come-from-behind-win all in one. "Tyra." He pushed in a little more and pulled back just a bit; he'd had a hard enough time getting in that he didn't want to slip out.
> 
> "Come on, Tim, give it to me," Tyra whispered in his ear.
> 
> He kissed the side of her face. "You sure?" She nodded so he pulled back and slammed in as hard as he could and felt something tear inside her just as she yelled, "Stop! God damn it, stop!"
> 
> "Sorry, baby, sorry, so sorry, didn't mean to hurt you," he said, trying to kiss away her tears as he eased out. She kept hitting his back, kicking at him and yelling to take it out. There was blood on the condom and Tyra rolled over and cried into the pillow while Tim kissed the back of her neck and tried to make it better.
> 
> She'd called her sister to pick her up a while later. Tim tried to call her a couple times over the weekend but she wouldn't talk to him. By the time he saw her at school Monday morning she was acting like nothing had happened.
> 
> Except something obviously had. Half the school was saying he'd tried to have sex Friday afternoon but got off before he could get the condom on. The worst part was they were saying he'd done it with some chick named Angie.

The rumor had been too close to the truth for Tim's comfort. He'd accused Tyra of spreading the rumors herself and that was the ugliest fight they'd ever had. They broke up until the next rumor started when Lori Swanson told everybody about how he'd screwed her in the back of Billy's truck during the game on Friday night. That was one time he hadn't needed Street to get his back, because Tyra _knew_ there was no way he'd miss a game.

She apologized, he apologized, they got back together and everything was okay for a while. They even managed to have sex that was good for both of them after trying it half a dozen more times. Turned out sex was a whole lot like football; it took a lot of practice to be good enough to get in the game.

Tim sighed and drained his beer. Story of his damn life: women wanting sex from him and getting pissed off about it later. Didn't matter whether he gave it to 'em or not. Tim crushed the can and tossed it in the trash, picked up another and popped the top. Lyla Garrity was probably the only girl in the whole damn school who'd never claimed to hook up with him; he thought that'd guarantee Tyra would be friends with her, but Tim reckoned nothing could make that happen.

He sighed and stood up. He had to take a leak.

Billy came back a couple hours later, mostly sober with a case of beer under his arm. Tim was finishing off his second frozen pizza and wishing the timer would ding on the one in the oven. "You want some?"

"Don't talk with your mouth full, stupid," Billy said looking in the cooler for a cold beer. "Damn, Timmy, did you have to drink it all?"

Tim didn't answer, just took another bite of pizza and talked around it. "Thought you'd bring more home."

"I did, but that's not the point." Billy opened the case of Lone Star Beer and dropped them in the cooler carefully so they wouldn't spew when opened. "What are you gonna do about this pregnant girl?"

"I told you I never slept with that girl." Tim looked at the one piece of pizza left on his plate and hoped Billy really didn't want any of the one in the oven 'cause he was still hungry and there was only one more in the freezer.

Billy set a lukewarm beer at his elbow and snatched the pizza off his plate. "And I'm telling you, I don't believe you."

Tim sighed loudly and walked back to the freezer to get out the last pizza. "Whatever."

"You're gonna have to quit football, get a job, and maybe even drop out of school."

"Damn it, Billy!" Tim slammed the pizza on the bar in front of Billy and leaned in until he was breathing in his brother's face. "I didn't fuck that girl. I don't care what nobody says, it's not true."

Tim met Billy's eyes for the first time in he couldn't remember how long and didn't look away until Billy did. "All right. You didn't screw her."

"That's right."

"Tomorrow, you stay sober – don't drink even one beer, shower after practice, and then you and I will go visit her parents. See if we can't get this taken care of." The timer dinged and Tim pulled the pizza out of the oven and popped the last one in. He cut it into fourths and put all the pieces on the plate in front of Billy.

"All right."

~*~

They took Billy's truck to the Calhouns'. The ball of nerves Tim'd been carrying all day changed into lead bricks. He was scared. And Billy just kept on fidgeting and saying shit like, "Mind your manners," and "Don't talk, let me do all the talking." He'd give up his starting position for second string if he didn't have to go up the sidewalk and knock on the door and talk to that girl's parents.

"Let's get this over with and go have a drink," Billy muttered, getting out of the truck and slamming the door shut behind him. Tim followed behind him, fists balled up and jammed in his pockets. Billy rang the door bell and turned to look at him. "You swear on your life that you didn't do it?"

Tim didn't have time to say yes or nod before the door opened and he saw who he guessed was Mr. Calhoun standing in the door. "Can I help you?" the man asked.

Billy nodded and stuck out his hand. "I'm Billy Riggins and this here's my brother Timmy." He elbowed Tim sharply in the ribs and Tim held out his hand for the man to shake.

"I'd know Big Tim Riggins anywhere! We're expecting the team to go all the way to state this year." He stepped aside and gestured for the Riggins boys to follow him.

"Honey! Candy, Mandy! Look who's here, Tim Riggins and his brother."

"Really, sir – we'd like to talk to you and your wife alone, if you don't mind," Billy said as he shook Mrs. Calhoun's hand.

"Girls why don't you go fix these boys some lemonade?" Mrs. Calhoun suggested. The girls left the room and Billy turned to him and mouthed, "You sure?"

Tim nodded and sat where Mrs. Calhoun pointed.

"What's going on here, fellas? The Booster Club looking for donations again?" Mr. Calhoun asked while reaching for his wallet.

"No, sir. I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than that." Billy paused and exchanged a quick look with Tim. "It could affect the team though."

Mrs. Calhoun looked worried and laid a hand on Mr. Calhoun's arm. "Is there anything we can do?"

"Yes, ma'am." Billy cleared his throat and winced. "There's no easy way to say this, Mr. and Mrs. Calhoun, so I'm just gonna spit it out. Your daughter, Mandy, says that she's pregnant and that Tim's the daddy." The color drained out of both their faces. "Now Timmy says that it's not true and that he's never had sex with your daughter, but I'm here to tell you if it is true, Tim's gonna do right by her. He's gonna quit the team, get a job, and support your grandchild."

Mrs. Calhoun's face kept getting whiter and Mr. Calhoun's face started turning a violent red before he shouted, "Girls! Get your butts in here right now!" He got up off the couch and stood in front of Billy. "I can't say thank you, but I will say I'll get to the bottom of this."

The twins came back into the room and Mr. Calhoun walked Billy and Tim to the door. "In the meantime, stay the hell away from my daughters."

"Yes, sir." Tim and Billy nodded as the door slammed behind them.

They could hear Mr. Calhoun yelling through the closed door, "Candy, you get on up to your room. And you, you better sit your ass down missy. What the hell is wrong with you? Didn't your mother and I raise you better than to go around spreading pregnancy rumors about yourself?"

"Billy," Tim sneaked a look over at his brother. "You're a genius."

Billy opened the door to the truck and cracked a grin at Tim over the truck roof, the yelling was muffled too much to make out any more words. "I don't know about genius, but I'm a damn sight smarter than you. Ready for a beer?" He climbed in the truck and started the engine.

Tim slammed the door and buckled his seat belt. "Hell, yeah."

~*~

Tim knew she was just trying to get back at him. There wasn't any other reason that Tyra'd be plastered all over Smash in the hallway. She just wanted to piss him off and knew how much he hated that guy. He'd called her a dozen times the past couple days and tried talking to her at school too, but she wouldn't answer the phone and kept hanging out with Smash, making it impossible. All he wanted to do was tell her about Billy's plan and what had happened.

Mr. Calhoun called and said they'd taken Mandy to the clinic and that the clinic would contact Tim directly. Seemed the Calhoun's didn't want no more to do with the Rigginses and Tim was more than fine with that. Mrs. Williams – Smash's mama – called him the day after and congratulated him on not being a father. He'd have been happy with the news, except he knew all along he wasn't going to be a father, it was the rest of the world that needed convincing.

Tim'd bet his last six pack that Smash knew that too, he was just taking every opportunity he could to piss him off. Take his girl, needle him at practice, and flash that grin at him all at the same time.

Tim slammed his locker door and walked up to Smash and Tyra. He didn't bother to acknowledge Smash, just focused on Tyra. "Tyra, you coming over to my house tonight? I got something to tell you that don't need an audience." He backed her up against the lockers and cupped her face with his hands. "Please?"

"What's in it for me?" Tyra glared up at him but pressed her hips into his and rocked them a bit.

"You'll see."

Smash was running his mouth, but Tim didn't listen just met Tyra's eyes with his until she leaned in and kissed him. "Yeah, I'll be there."

~*~

The roast was over. Tyra was on the other side of the room talking to Landry Clarke of all people and Lyla had stomped out before Jason could make his way over to her. Tim caught the the tail end of that scene and wound his way through the crowd until he reached Jason.

"You got Saracen ready to play?"

Jason looked up at him and for the first time since before the accident it didn't make Tim uncomfortable. "Ready as he'll ever be. I think we can do it."

They grinned at one another for a minute enjoying the easiness between them again. "So," Jason waggled his eyebrows at Tim. "You and Tyra get back together?"

"Nah." Tim shrugged and walked beside Jason as he wheeled toward the door. "Trying to do the friend thing instead." Tim held the door open and Jason rolled through. "Shit never did get back to normal after that whole pregnant girl thing."

"Nobody ever did tell me how that ended." The hall was deserted and their voices echoed a little.

"Billy told her parents what she was saying and they took her to the clinic for a pregnancy test."

"What? That's it?" Jason asked surprise written on his face.

"Turns out, she wasn't pregnant at all."


End file.
